


every occasion i'll be ready for the funeral

by raginginsideme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Slow Build, also punctuation just kind of didnt happen honestly im trash, angst angst angst, anyway minor sterek, i keep everything lowercase bc it just feels right, pack pushing stiles away, shit happens, this took forever, unappreciated!stiles, warning:this is all written in second person pov, yes i know im garbage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:47:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raginginsideme/pseuds/raginginsideme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"after that confrontation in the hallway today you just wanna go and cry in your bed. you beat your dad home, and you run up the stairs, ready to just cry and let it all out, but then you see her.<br/>she's standing by your bookshelf, running her hands over the spines, as if trying to memorize them. when she hears you she turns around, and you're struck breathless.<br/>your mother is standing in your room, looking as healthy as she was years before the diagnosis. she's got her unkempt, curly hair down, and it looks like its shining. she's wearing her old favorite rolling stones t-shirt with her mom jeans and fuzzy socks, the outfit she used to wear whenever she had a day off or was lazing around the house on the weekends. her skin looks luminous, her eyes are brighter than you've ever seen before. she gives you a little smile, and you rub your eyes quickly, and when you open them she's gone."// or, the pack pushes stiles away and he starts seeing his mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every occasion i'll be ready for the funeral

you've been back to school for maybe three days when the huge meltdown you were expecting finally happens.  
scott is staring at you from across the hallway, creepy creepster that he is, just staring. he sees you and you see him. he doesn't say shit, and just turns away. you’re suddenly reminded of this stupid fucking memory of scott when you both were ten and he accidentally kicked you really hard in the shin and when you started crying he immediately starting crying too because he felt so guilty about hurting you. you wonder what younger scott who constantly told his best friend he loved him would think about older scott, who pushes away you away until you finally quit, and he doesn't even look back.  
the thought makes you so angry. you haven’t been this angry in a while, not since you started your meds. you used to get angry all the time because no one seemed to understand you, understand what you meant or said. you would start shaking and your eyes would blur and your throat would close up and then you would get angrier because now you looked like a total crybaby while you were mad. that’s how angry you feel right now, at this stupid fucking douchebag of person who used to cry for you but doesn't give a shit about you now.  
"unbelievable," you hear yourself say over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, "what a fucking coward."  
Thing is, you know you’re playing a dangerous game, scott is still in werewolf hearing distance (if not human) and he doesn’t think scott is so willing to hold his hand and cry with him as they wait for scotts mom to kiss his bruised shin better this time. no, scott is walking over here now and he doesn’t look so sympathetic.  
in fact, anger is such an ugly look on scotts face, especially when you’re so used to him practically beaming every time he sees you.  
he walks right up to you and immediately your palms are sweating and your heart starts going fast and you start to regret everything you just did because scott doesn’t look happy.  
"stiles, you really don’t know shit right now," he says in a dark tone that scares you a little, "don't act like you didn't bring this on, like you didn't have any part in it."  
you feel your anger flare back up. you’re just thinking of every time you got him out of stupid shit, life or death situations, times where he wholly and totally depended on you and now he’s looking at you like you’re beneath him. you’re so filled with rage you don’t even know what to reply with. your head is pounding.  
"brought this on?" you hear your voice rise in pitch, "how in the hell did i bring this on? if i recall correctly you were the one who-"  
lydia’s suddenly at their side. “keep it down, both of you.” she doesn’t even spare you a glance before taking scotts arm and dragging him away.”this is not the time and not the place.” scott looks at you for maybe two second before turning around and falling into step with lydia.  
all you can even do is kick your foot against the lockers as you get one of the worst headaches you've ever felt pound its way through your temples.  
***  
it wasn't always like this. at the beginning of the summer you were all so close, finally had the healthy relationship packs strive for. everyone was getting along and hanging out constantly, but then without warning it all just stopped.  
you started getting these searing headaches, ones that made you think of your mom and her last years but you're too afraid to touch that skeleton in the closet so you just shut it away along with the rest of your fears.  
but then allison quits texting you cute pictures of cats, lydia stops coming over to your house to cross reference research, scott quits asking you to hang out all together, and derek...  
well, you never see derek anymore, he's stopped slipping into your room to demand information from you and you're not exactly inclined to seek him out but you still miss it a little. it felt like you actually had an important place in the pack.  
which, you know the pack hasn't stopped hanging out altogether. you've seen them all in public together, wrapped up in whatever wolfy business they've landed themselves into, always looking confused or worried.  
so it's not really a pack thing; it's a you thing. which hurts. a lot.  
it's not like you felt like you were the most important in the pack, but you didn't think you were that replaceable, like an afterthought. but you suck it up, because confronting it only brings realization to the fact that they've ultimately been doing this on purpose and to acknowledge it would hurt even more.  
so you spend the second half of the summer alone. you mostly just play video games or surf the web, but sometimes your dad asks why you've been home a lot. then you just start taking long drives, if only to just make it seem like you're actually hanging out with your friends so your dad doesn't get too concerned.  
everything feels so stilted and weird, it's like seeing it from a looking glass. everything seems so off and unbelievable that the only way you truly grasp it all is when you're sitting in bed at ten o' clock at night and no ones spoken a word to you all day.  
that's when the headaches really pick up. whenever you think about them, or how they abandoned you. but you suck it up and don't tell anyone because at this point it genuinely feels like no one cares.  
it doesn't matter though, because before you know it it's the week before school and you feel so nervous you could puke. you're not nervous because of the stress you know is going to come from all your assignments, but rather the thought of facing all your former friends.  
you wonder when this became your life.  
***  
after that confrontation in the hallway today you just wanna go and cry in your bed. you beat your dad home, and you run up the stairs, ready to just cry and let it all out, but then you see her.  
she's standing by your bookshelf, running her hands over the spines, as if trying to memorize them. when she hears you she turns around, and you're struck breathless.  
your mother is standing in your room, looking as healthy as she was years before the diagnosis. she's got her unkempt, curly hair down, and it looks like its shining. she's wearing her old favorite rolling stones t-shirt with her mom jeans and fuzzy socks, the outfit she used to wear whenever she had a day off or was lazing around the house on the weekends. her skin looks luminous, her eyes are brighter than you've ever seen before.she gives you a little smile, and you rub your eyes quickly, and when you open them she's gone.  
your headache is completely gone at this point, and your urge to cry has faded altogether. all you feel is wonder, this unbelievable giddiness bubbling in your chest that fills your lungs and throat with warm happy air. yeah, you imagined her, but it was so realistic that you honestly feel a little accomplished with yourself at how real you made her seem.  
you walk over to the bookshelf where she was standing at touch the spines of the books she was looking at. there were no imprints of course, but touching where she "touched" still makes you feel like you were touching her.  
you go to sleep that night peacefully.  
***  
no one talks to you anymore. no one sits with you at lunch, so you just read and do your homework in the library. yeah, some of them are in your classes but they never acknowledge you so you don't even look their way.  
it's so hard. the classes you have with them half the time you're just focused on making yourself seem unaffected, looking out of your peripheral ever ten minutes to see if they're maybe glancing at you (they're not).  
when you walk through the hallways you keep your head down, because the last time one of the pack caught you staring at them they just gave you a blank stare that said, "you're nothing," and your ears heat up and feel queasy in your stomach.  
you begin to wonder how much they really ever needed you.do they talk about you? do they miss you? are they better off without you? you want to ask these questions, you want to yell them but every time you suck up the courage it's crushed by the memory of scott staring at you blankly from the end of the hallway and walking off.  
not even stares that acknowledge he used to be a part of them , just blank stares that mean nothing. is he supposed to just forget everything he's learned in the past year? no. you have no clue what to do in this kind of situation. how are you supposed to pretend that you don't know about the things that go bump in the night? the creatures that ultimately don't give a shit about whether you live or die. what are you supposed to do about the nightmares you still get? none of it makes sense, none of it has a clear answer.  
and there's that coupled with the fact that you've been seeing your mom more often. just minute long experiences here and there, she hasn't said anything yet, just smiled at you encouragingly. maybe it's your way of dealing with all of this, you've made up someone who was always on your side no matter what, someone who was always there for you whenever you needed them.  
she feels like a security blanket, and while you feel like it might be unhealthy, it's still better than hazy distant memories you were clinging onto before.  
so now whenever you feel like you're alone, you just picture her walking with you, telling you to keep your chin up. it works for the most part.  
***  
derek's in your room. not only has he snuck in through your window, but he has also thrown his jacket onto the bed as if he owns the place. it seems like he's been waiting for you to get home for a while.  
you don't even say anything to him when you first enter your room, you just kinda stand there and stare. it's been weeks since you've seen derek, you've almost forgot how perfect his stupid face was, those cheekbones that always make you feel kinda sweaty and the piercing eyes that twist your tongue.  
derek just stares at you. hard. he sniffs the air once, twice, then says, "what is wrong."  
it's not even really phrased like a question, more like a statement that betrays how emotionally stunted he is that he can't even ask about feelings without it sounding foreign.  
"um, nothing?" you're cautious, you don't really know what he means or what is ultimately going on here. he hasn't spoken to you in weeks and now he suddenly cares?  
"the pack's worried about you, you haven't spoken to any of them in weeks." when he says that you immediately get a sharp stab in your right temple. you can hardly even think through your haze of this onslaught of anger.  
he makes it all seem like your fault, like you were the one who cut off contact with everyone, isolating yourself. it feels like betrayal, it feels like an accusation.  
"no, it's all of you who have quit talking to me, cut me off." you spit the words out. the headache is making your head so cloudy, it feels like you're watching this exchange from far away, like you're in another body.  
derek's eyebrows pull together and he looks genuinely baffled. "stiles," he says slowly, "we've been trying to gt a hold of you for weeks but you've been blowing us off."  
which is just bullshit. you feel like crying and throwing shit all at once with how much your head hurts and how hard derek is lying and you're about to have a massive freak out when she appears right behind derek.  
immediately you feel calmer. derek jerks, probably the change from your scent (a harsh angry to a calm and collected one) and before he can say anything else you cut him off. "derek, just go." you don't even take your eyes off her. derek looks completely confused and a bit...concerned, but he doesn't have the right since he dropped you weeks ago. none of them do.  
slowly though, he picks up his jacket and walks to your window, looking at you over his shoulder one more time before finally jumping out of the window.  
once he's gone she steps forward and says, "oh baby," and you realize how much you really missed the sound of her voice before you couldn't hear it anymore. the only memories you have of it are muddled by the fact that she didn't say much the last weeks of her life. her voice is so sharp and ringing that it silences everything going on in your head at once.  
"he doesn't deserve you, none of them do." and she's right. none of them really do, with the way they've been acting. if anyone else told him that's how their friends reacted he would have told them to drop them immediately. it;s refreshing hearing this from somewhere other than his own head.  
she's just staring at you, her face completely open and earnest and you automatically feel yourself nod. "that's right baby boy, you know i'm right." she croons and you automatically shut your eyes at the way her voice smoothly runs down your spine.  
you snap your eyes open, afraid she's gone, and she's still there. "why are you here?" your voice sounds so shaky, betraying your nerves.  
she tilts her head and shrugs, "i wanted you to know how loved you were, how this was all for the better."  
it makes you feel so appreciated, someone realizing how much you just needed the support of another person being there. someone justifying your actions. it doesn't even matter that she's not real.  
"are you real?" you hedge, trying not to run her off. she just shrugs again, "yes and no." it feels like that's all you're gonna get out of her, so you just accept it and move on.  
***  
the pack (are you even allowed to call them that anymore?) finally seem to notice you after derek's little visit. it's like they remembered you finally existed.  
you keep feeling their stares on your back, their hushed whispers as you pass by, (your phone keeps on feeling like it's buzzing in your pocket but every time you check it it's blank) and all this attention makes you feel special.  
you almost cave and think about just walking up to one of them and asking what the deal is, but then you remember your mom telling you how you deserve better. so you keep your head, and look straight forward. it gets easier.  
it's weird though, because whenever you see them or hear them or catch them staring at you, you get this foggy headache that doesn't go away until you see your mom again. it's like she's the only cure for the pain, and you begin to crave her visits.  
not only for the pain relief though, whenever she visits she tells you how much she loves you, how you're better off without them, how you're doing fine on your own. it's all these pick-me-ups that really get you through the days now, just knowing she's there.  
you're no longer as dependent on them, and it feels like a big fuck you that they're finally starting to notice you when you've quit caring.  
it feels so liberating, so refreshing to finally be the one pined after. but derek keeps ruining it.  
he keeps dropping into your room and telling you how you're acting weird, how detached you are. usually these visits end in screaming matches on your part (because derek always looks too confused to yell back) before he leaves and you have a pounding headache that is instantly relieved by the sight of your mother.  
your dad's been working a lot of double shifts, but even he notices how your attitude's changed in the past couple of weeks. he keeps sending you these proud smiles that have you even happier than you were before, like you're finally proving yourself to him.  
everything feels so perfect and you even notice that your moms visits are becoming longer, and more frequent, with more talking.  
***  
one afternoon she says to you, "it's just you and me against the world, baby." you had just finished ranting about how the pack suddenly started paying attention to you after you quit pining after them, and her words stick.  
they settle into a low place in your chest, and it feels kind of weird. you don't know why, but there's just this strange weight behind them, something that feels really important.  
"what do you mean?" you ask curiously, trying to settle this feeling. she just smiles, "i just want you to know that you and i are always in this together, i'm always gonna be the one to appreciate you." you blink and she's gone.  
she's never really asserted herself like that before, made you and her on their own team. she's always sounded like she's supporting him from behind but the way she just phrased it made it seem like you were working together, towards some common goal or something.  
you sit on your bed and think about it for a couple minutes before your phone vibrates and your head starts hurting. it's no one as usual, the phones probably broken from how many times you've dropped it, but it doesn't matter because you swallow a couple of advil to get rid of the headache and call it a night.  
***  
she doesn't quit after that one time.  
she works it into most of the talks you have now, and it's kind of neat (if a teeny bit weird) to have someone on your side. it makes you feel stronger, more powerful. you don't even pay any attentions to anything but your own life, family, schoolwork anymore. the strange murder/suicide have quit happening so your dad is home more and more and you two have a bond that's stronger than ever. after all, you've quit showing up on crime scenes and obviously lying to him so he has really no reason not to trust you anymore, and it feels nice to have his trust back.  
scott breaks this good mood by cornering yo in an empty bathroom and demanding to know what's been going on. this is the first time you've spoken to him since the last time (and you've just been running that dialogue in your head over and over. the exchange you two and seems stilted, like it's lacking parts in some places and that it doesn't make sense.)  
he's interrogating you now, asking what your deal is, and your head is literally searing with pain when she appears near the mirrors.  
her eyes are narrowed and she looks pissed off when she says, "tell him to back off, baby," she orders and you repeat it without even hesitating.  
scott looks taken aback, like he's genuinely shocked. he goes for a softer tone, "stiles, we jut want to know what's wrong."  
he seems so apologetic that you consider relenting before she hisses again, "you know he's playing you, right stiles? he's just using and then he's going to forget you again." when she says this you're in disbelief for a second because while scott is being shitty, all you can remember is your mom cooing over him when you were younger, always pinching his cheek and patting his head. it's hard to reconcile the memory when she's standing right there glaring at him.  
you still hesitate, and then she's right there next to you in your ear, "i've always been there for you stiles, he hasn't." and then that peace settles in your head again and you tell him off without thinking twice about it and walk calmly out of the bathroom.  
***  
ever since the bathroom incident the whole pack has been regarding you cautiously, almost worried. you know you must look like shit.  
the high he was riding before has subsided into something unhealthy feeling. you know it's probably because of the lack of sleep you've been getting lately, but it feels like something more.  
you've been dreading the meetings with your mom lately. ever since that incident in the bathroom you haven't been able to forget the way her eyes had just narrowed and turned mean and nasty within seconds. she didn't seem like your happy mom, the one who's been encouraging you all this time, bringing you up. for a couple seconds there she felt scary, menacing.  
and then once you've gotten that thought stuck in your head you can't get it out. you start to wonder why she never asks you about dad, why she never asks you about her old friends, thing's she definitely normally wanna know. on accident once, you were playing music and their wedding song came on. you had looked at her expecting a look of recognition but she simply furrowed her brow and smiled asking, "what is it baby?"  
all of that plus the pack's nosiness is beginning to build up. he's noticed every time he sees them or even thinks about them his head begins to hurt, and that starts to play at his mind a little. you start to wonder when those headaches truly started. wasn't it when you had that blowout with scott in the hallway? it was, and you'd come home in a huff only to see your mom there.  
this sick, little nagging feeling of dread begins to pull at your heart. you feel like you can't breathe. you're thinking of every time you've had a headache, how she was always there to immediately relieve it, making you associate peace of mind with her. it was like the pavlov theory, only instead of a bell it was her there for him to associate her with happiness. warmth. trust.  
you immediately rush to your whiteboard and your hands are flying before you can even think to stop them. all the times she's made you feel like she's on your side. the headaches whenever you're around the pack, the way derek kept on insisting the pack hadn't cut off contact with you, the phantom buzzes in your cellphone...  
it all starts to connect now. it's making your chest constrict, and you feel the early signs of a headache and you know you have one more chance to make sure this is what you think it is. you immediately erase your whiteboard so she doesn't suspect anything.  
you can immediately sense when she's there. she's sitting on your bed and smiling, "hey baby boy." she only ever calls you baby or stiles, never calling you by the name she gave you.  
"mom?" your voice is so shaky and your hands are sweating. your breaths come in shallow, "mom, what's my name?" she should know this. she should answer you immediately, you were named after her father.  
she just gives you an amused look. "stiles, sweetie." she looks like she's laughing at you.  
"no," you shake your head, "my real name."  
she doesn't say anything. the smile drips off her face and begins to shift into something alien, something ugly. her whole demeanor has changed. she doesn't look friendly anymore and you can feel your breaths coming in short. she is not your mom.  
"baby boy, what are you saying?" there's an edge in her voice, she's gritting the words through her teeth.  
"the headaches," you can feel yourself say without any thought over what she might do, "you caused them. it was all you."  
in only a seconds time her face has shifted int something unrecognizable, she looks ready to kill you. you don't even have time to back up before her cold hand is around your throat. she's inhumanly strong.  
now you know why she never touched you sin to skin, her hands are ice cold and they're had and she's crushing your windpipe but you're still trying to get in air. you've never felt this afraid in your life, your legs feels warm, like you've just peed yourself.  
"it was going so well," she hisses, "i was going to convince you to let me take over, i'd finally have a vessel, but then you ruined it. you ruin everything, you hear me?"  
she picks up scissors from your desk and it feels like you're crying, she doesn't let up.  
"why do you think it was so easy to manipulate you? it's because you're weak and you know you're weak. all i had to do was make you believe your stupid pack dropped you and you just broke." she rams the knife into your leg and you'd scream but she only lets enough room for you to just barely breathe and her grip is stronger than iron.  
"you didn't even think twice about me appearing you were so desperate for anyone to notice you, you needy little swine." she yanks out the scissors and runs it into your stomach. the pain is unbearable but what's even more unbearable is the fact that this creature, this thing still looks like your mom. all you can see is her angry twisted face glaring at you. your hands scramble at your throat trying to pry her off but she just pushes it harder.  
"i see now i'll just have to finish you off and try to find another," she spits before raising the scissors over her head, and you close your eyes because you know this will be the last blow before it's all over and you never got to say goodbye to anyone. you don't know which will kill you first: lack of air, scissors in head, or this agony you feel of not getting to see anyone's face but your mothers before you go. you brace yourself.  
and suddenly, the hand is off your throat and you hear her garbled cries. your eyes snap open and there derek is, mauling her. scott bursts through your bedroom door and rushes to you while the rest of the pack follows quickly afterwards, all wolfed out except for allison and lydia.  
the wolves (minus scott) rip the thing to shreds, while scott and the girls hover over you, unsure of what to do. lydia finally purses her lips and says, "call the hospital, stiles needs medical care." derek looks murderous and she hastily adds, "bring what's left of her to deaton's, maybe he'll know. right now stiles needs help, he's losing a lot of blood."  
you can barely even follow along, how woozy you are. the last thing you see is dereks bloody face hovering over yours and you still think it's a far sight better than what it might have been had they not come in time.  
***  
when you come to, it's to the sounds of beeping machines and your fathers snoring. "dad?" you croak. your throat hurts like hell and you wonder why, before you remember how you were almost strangled.  
even though you said it quietly he still wakes up immediately and rushes over. "stiles? jesus son." he grabs your hand and closes his eyes and holds it to his chest.  
"what happened?" you ask. not because you don't know but because you need to know the cover story before you blow it. your dad opens his eyes and gives you a long, hard stare before saying, "i know about the werewolves," and you immediately faint.  
*  
when you come to again your dad is still there, but this time he's joined by derek. your dad looks sheepish. "sorry bud, i didn't mean to freak you out like that, but you gotta know we're having a serious talk later."  
you nod, just because you can't say anything else. this feels to unreal. you look at derek, "how did you know i was in trouble?"  
he gives a half shrug and looks a little ashamed, "you were acting really off, so i started looking into it. sometimes i sat outside your house to make sure you were okay, and then i heard her, so i called the pack." it should creep you out, but that's squashed by the part of you that is immensely grateful.  
"how did you know something was wrong with me?" it felt like no one noticed you at all. or at least, that's what she told you.  
"you quit talking to everyone halfway through the summer, you never answered calls or texts, and every time one of us asked you about it you acted like they had started it first or that you'd forgotten altogether."  
"i got these headaches," you admit, "whenever i was with one of you. my head felt so foggy and clouded that whenever i was talking to one of you it felt like i didn't really know what was going on. my phone would buzz but whenever i would check there would be no texts there."  
derek nods, "deaton thinks the thing erased those from your memory, or manipulated you into not really seeing it. it explains why you never really made sense whenever we asked you what was going on."  
your dad looks furious, "what did it look like?" he demands, as if he can track down another and make it pay.  
your face goes hot and you feel your eyes water, "mom," you croak before you see your dad's face crumble. it was something he never thought he'd have to deal with.  
you continue on as if it doesn't affect you at all, "whenever i was around the pack or thought about the pack i'd get these really awful headaches that wouldn't go away until she was there."  
"so you became dependent on her, and thought of her as a positive thing," derek finishes. you nod. "what does deaton think it was?" you have to know, you have know this thing that took a hold of you, that changed your entire being.  
derek sighs, "he says it's some breed of demon, he's not sure. it probably would have helped if we saved the body but..." he trails off and you get it. if you saw some soul sucking demon hurting anyone you care about you'd rip them to shreds too. which is not to say that derek cares for you or anything, but he did leap in first and he did rip her to pieces. you put it out of your mind.  
"how long am i stuck in here?" you gesture to all the white walls and machines. your dad sighs and says, "bout three more days buddy, you've gotta let the wounds heal." immediately as he says this you feel sharp pains in your stomach and leg, where she ran the scissors into them.  
you must make a wince, because derek immediately shoots his hand out and onto your stomach, taking away the pain. you see your dad stare in sick fascination as the black winds up his arm.  
as the pain leaves, you feel your eyes get heavier and heavier, before everything get's fuzzy and you drift off.  
***  
you don't recover immediately. you've been manipulated for so long into believing that no one cares for you, and you still see her faces in your nightmares, taking away memories of your actual mother. you've had a hard time separating which was your real mom and which was the...thing.  
it gets easier though. the whole pack showers you with the love you weren't able to recognize before, and they make you feel wanted and happy again. derek actually spends almost every night with you. sometimes you don't even talk, he just sits there and silently lets you know that he's always there.  
and it gets better after a while. you're finally able to look at pictures of your mom again without feeling sick, and you quit questioning how wanted or useful you are. and when derek shyly kisses you one evening when you're silently doing homework, you don't even question if it's what he really wants.  
everything is as it should be.


End file.
